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@malcolmgaunt
malcolm gaunt fandomless oc ft. fandom verses for ffxiv, pokemon, and more follows from pennedbybrie
rules | muse | tags | thread tracker
activity: low, threads usually queued
brie's other roleplay sideblog ▹ cataleyatakahashi | fandomless oc 🎮
🫂 Jace is easy to see incoming because he spreads his arms pre-emptively and approaches Malcolm with clear intent on seeing him. It's been a while!
Send a 🫂 to suddenly pull my muse into a hug
The hug is imminent. There is no escaping this fate.
"Hey, Jace..." says Malcolm, voice laced with feigned defeat as he lets it happen, even being willing to wrap one of his arms around him. "I'm in town visiting my parents. Might have time for coffee or something, too."
Send a 🫂 to suddenly pull my muse into a hug
What Does Your Soul Look Like?
A Shadowed Figure Within a Void
You are the flickering shape in the darkness. The echo of something lost. Are you even there at all, really? Does anyone see what you are beyond the darkness that surrounds you? You were the first to lose yourself. You stumbled in the dark, and in trying to find who you are, you picked up all the wrong pieces of broken things. Can you still say that you are you, if you have torn yourself apart and stitched yourself together with every monstrous replacement you could find? What is it that you think will make you whole again? Do you think that your teeth and claws can protect you? There is no monster trying to harm you. There is only you, and nothing can protect you from yourself if you insist upon your own self-destruction. You are the villain of your own story. There is no one you have harmed more than yourself.
@malcolmgaunt ♥!
Having returned to Aysel for a short brief of time, Lucas was busy in the small study writing out some important things. He had left command of the fort to his second in command and told him he would return within a fortnight. However, if anything did happen to let him know to come back immediately. As he finished writing a note, there came a knock on his door but continued to write and told whomever it was to enter.
As the servant entered, he bowed before speaking. "There is a man here requesting an audience with you. But if you're busy, I can tell him to come back another day." That made the prince finally halt his writing, and placed the pen down. "No, its fine. Please, allow him to come and speak with me." Lucas told the servant who then bowed again and left the room, telling the guest outside they could enter the study.
The one who has come to pay the prince a visit is a man donning dark traveling attire and carrying a spear on his back. He thanks the servant on his way into the office and is quick to fix his sharp gaze on Lucas.
"Greetings, my Lord," he says, voice practiced in its politeness, before giving a slight bow. "Thank you for sparing the time to speak with me."
Though he seems to be the adventuring sort, there is an air of nobility about him still. Assuming one is knowledgeable enough to take notice.
He straightens up. "You may call me Malcolm Gaunt."
Malcolm has appeared! What do do?
Insult Bang Admire Kiss on the lips
Making Him Talk About His Feelings is stoic repressed character abuse. :/
"Well, there was a specific vibe I was getting from you as well," Bill said, with a knowing look in those grey eyes, "But I won't specify out loud, just in case you're not open about that. I do have standards and respect for privacy."
And Malcolm wasn't bad looking at all. Bill wasn't going to linger on that though. He didn't want to make the man too uncomfortable before he really had a chance to enjoy his drink.
"Well, you've come to the right place," Bill said, "If you're a people watching type, then there's plenty of different and interesting people to see come and go."
As if on cue, one new stranger walked in. The air seemed to grow just a little colder as he did so. The man was tall, and his brown eyes looked like they could bore into the soul, in contrast to his pale skin. Wavy dark hair framed his face and hung just below his shoulders.
He was expressionless, but his body language wasn't hostile as he approached.
"Ah, speaking of interesting, this is one of my favourite people in the entire world," Bill said, "Nice to see you, Leofric."
Leofric looked over at Malcolm, before giving him a nod and sitting down, just so he couldn't seem so intimidating.
"Good evening," Leofric said, "I see you've met Bill already. How do you do?"
Malcolm feels the slight chill in the air before he properly turns his head to look at the newcomer. Even without using his powers to get a sense of what his deal is, he has a feeling that the Leofric isn't exactly human.
"Nice to meet you, too, Leofric," he responds, more going through the motions of the meeting than anything else. "You can call me Malcolm."
He silently sips his drink, looking at him with some curiosity.
"Apparently you were around when I was last here. Bill remembers that, anyway." He gives the bartender a sidelong look before smirking a bit.
When Malcolm rounds the corner. they are already facing his entry. Artair blinks at the greeting, however. They find a light from their bag, a little handheld lamp with metal shutters. Artair cranks the lever which completes the circuit; the shutters lower and loose an amber glow into the room. That may help the newest guest see better, should he need more than their arm and a few stingy panes of twilight. Malcolm's dark hair, grey eyes and the distinct features of their face are vaguely familiar, but not something where the dots connecting is instantaneous.
At least he seems calm, and friendly enough to offer a smile. Artair brushes their hair back over a shoulder, looking around the room again. The extra light cast longer shadows, like the space was built for such a thing to further the ominous ambiance. It's kind of tacky, but charming for its nostalgia. "I think someone is trying really hard to be scary. But in a David Pumpkins way. Same energy as a sheet-ghost. Their heart is in it, but it'd land better on someone who's jumpier."
There's a pause after their chuckle, and their eyes flick back to the guy. "Uh.... do we... know each other?" They tilt their head with the question. He's dressed in a red coat, which is pretty distinct. There's a niggling feeling they've seen it somewhere before. Still, their memory is failing them. Which is a little weird, but made stranger by the fact that this guy thrums with a sensation that isn't mundane and fairly distinct. Even if a face doesn't strike their recollection, usually the energy of a person does.
Malcolm reflexively blinks when the lantern is lit, but soon the room is no longer in darkness and the spirit's attempt at being spooky is lessened.
He can even pick up on a feeling of child-like disappointment in the air.
"Not exactly. More like we have friends and acquaintances in common so I've heard about you." He shrugs. "Mostly from Jace. Good things."
He hadn't even been trying to pry for information, it just kind of came up during the winding tangents conversations with Jace tend to often take.
To give Artair a bit more context, he adds: "I also lived in Cadence for a few years and come back to visit since my parents are still here. So we've kinda crossed paths in town but never actually met before, I don't think."
Malcolm certainly doesn't remember speaking with them before. Artair's looks, however, are hard to mistake for any other locals he knows about.
"Anyway, you can call me Mal."
How do you feel about this place?
Ask my character "How do you feel about __?" Can be an idea, person(s), place, or thing, and they'll have to answer honestly.
Malcolm thinks for a bit before frowning. "It's all I know. There could be somewhere better but is figuring it out worth it? And can I even leave?"
Well, that's cryptic and concerning...
How do you feel about your family?
Ask my character "How do you feel about __?" Can be an idea, person(s), place, or thing, and they'll have to answer honestly.
"If we're talking about the family I actually give a fuck about, I love them, complicated shit aside. Everything else I'd rather not think about much."
How do you feel about coffee ?
Ask my character "How do you feel about __?" Can be an idea, person(s), place, or thing, and they'll have to answer honestly.
"I like it fine," answers Malcolm before taking a long sip of the red eye he ordered from a cafe on the way here while staring you right in the eyes.
Ask my character "How do you feel about ______?" Can be an idea, person(s), place, or thing, and they'll have to answer honestly.
Ⓦ
Lost America
"Yeah, its full of holes." He motioned to the ceiling where the rays of sun were splitting through the small holes in the rusty metal. A few ones that were lower to the ground seem to have been taped shut but the larger ones on the ceiling are clearly harder to reach for a teen.
"They sure were." Jacks rested his head against the palms of his hands, intertwining his fingers behind his head. "They saw the whole thing, asked me about you later too. So I told them to meet us here later."
He reached for a comic book and began idly flicking through it, as there was nothing better to be done other than wait. They really needed to get the tv and nintendo sorted.
"Oh... Cool."
Well, that means they already have their first impression of him. It seems like Jacks made him sound cool. Or at least not like a total loser, anyway.
Following the older boy's lead, Malcolm takes as a seat on the mattress and, without something to read, he pulls out his phone out of habit and immediately wishes he didn't. So many text messages...but no calls yet.
This must mean only his dad knows what happened at school. His mom would have called right away. He still has time before he's in trouble...
With nothing else to do, just settles on staring at the wall while they wait.
